


What's a Dark Lord To Do?

by immaplane



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, Gen, I Don't Even Know, I don't know what I'm doing, It's just weird, Or where I'm going with this, Severus is confused, There will be tutus, Voldemort is Bored, and it shows, because I said so, everyone is confused, including me, so much crack, with a capital B
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 13:03:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9608672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/immaplane/pseuds/immaplane
Summary: Lord Voldemort is bored and needs new ways to torture his minions.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know guys.

Tom Riddle was, despite his ardent claims to the contrary, only a man. Beneath the whole breathe-without-my-permission-and-I-will-crucio-you-so-hard-your-grandchildren-will-feel-it-façade was a 50 something year old male. And this male was quite bored.

Sure, his comeback had caused a bit of a stir and he’d thoroughly enjoyed scaring his _dedicated_ followers to death (some literally). But now he was supposed to be laying low, so he had absolutely nothing to do.

He hardly had any human contact at all, what with Lucius finding excuses left and right to not be in his mansion as often as possible. And there were only so many times he could crucio Pettigrew before the rat broke.

So what was an evil criminal mastermind like himself to do? Why, devise new inventive ways to terrify his servants of course. Nothing that would cause any lasting damage, he still needed them after all, just something to mess with their heads.

And he knew just where to start.

 

* * *

 

Severus Snape had just seated himself at the dinner table in the Great Hall when he felt his mark burn. His sudden stiffening alerted the Headmaster and after exchanging a meaningful glance he stood back up and stalked to the exit. As he passed Potter, he sent him a hate-filled glare and snapped out his usual “Ten points from Gryffindor, Potter, your uniform is out of order.”

As he left the Hall and thus Potter’s eyesight, whose tie was indeed hanging just a bit to the right, he let a small smirk grace his lips; he did so enjoy winding the boy up.

But walking down the steps to the open terrain that surrounded the castle he reminded himself of his role and settled in his customary scowl. This was an unannounced meeting, who knew what would be waiting for him there.

A nervously giggling and shivering Pettigrew met him at the doors of the drawing room. “His st-strawberryness is waiting for you, Snape.”

At once Severus stopped his advance, turned to the rat-like man and raised his brow. “Pardon?”

Pettigrew just giggled again and replied with the ominous sounding “You’ll see.”

Severus, having decided the Dark Lord must have finally broken his favourite practice target, centred himself and went inside.

A horrendous sight greeted his eyes.

 

* * *

 

Meanwhile at the Gryffindor table a vexed-looking boy, whose tie was still a bit crooked, was complaining to his two loyal sidekicks about their Potions Master.

“He just took ten points because _my uniform was out of order._ It’s ridiculous!”

“Well Harry, your tie is hanging a bit to the right,” sidekick No. 1 began, but she trailed off after seeing the look on her best friend’s face. “Anyway, he’s probably in a bad mood.”

Sidekick No. 2 snorted and mumbled “When isn’t he?” while stuffing his face with more food.

The girl continued speaking, completely ignoring what the other had said. “He’d only just sat down when he left, maybe he got called?”

“Hmm, then maybe I won’t have to go to detention tonight?” Harry began hopefully.

“Wouldn’t count on it mate.” Ron had finally finished eating. “If he’s not back you know it’ll be with Filch.”

At this the raven-haired boy let out a despondent groan. He didn’t get a chance to say anything though, because right at that moment his scar started to burn. Harry let out a pain filled sound, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he fainted.

A sudden silence reigned for a few seconds and then everyone started moving at once. Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey hurried down to the Gryffindor table, Ron and Hermione jumped up in panic and everyone else strained their necks to see just what the boy-who-lived had done this time.

 

* * *

 

Lucius Malfoy was not having a good day. Scratch that, he was not having a good year. Ever since the Dark Lord had returned his perfect life had gotten turned upside down.

But today was a new height of misery for him. It hadn’t started bad though, his morning was peaceful and then he’d eaten lunch with his wife, nothing special. But around tea time things had gone south: the Dark Lord had summoned him.

He stared at his master in confusion, “My Lord?”

“I said, amuse me, Lucius.” The snake-like figure said with a wicked smile as he leaned back in his extravagant, golden throne.

“Of course My Lord,” Lucius said, furiously thinking what he could possibly do to appease his master, “do you wish me to go fetch a muggle?”

“No Lucius,” Lord Voldemort calmly replied, “that’s not the kind of amusement I meant.”

Cold sweat gathered on Lucius’ brow, he didn’t trust that tone of voice, his normally volatile master was too calm, something bad was going to happen, he just knew it.

“What sort of entertainment would please you, My Lord?” Lucius gulped at the fearsome smirk that was his answer.

“Tell me Lucius, can you dance?”

 

* * *

 

Peter Pettigrew’s year (and day) was also not a good one. Unlike Malfoy he didn’t have the freedom to walk about London at his leisure, so he was stuck at Malfoy Manor. With a Dark Lord, a Dark Lord who loved to crucio people.

So when he was summoned once again, he’d mentally prepared himself for a day of torture. And tortured he was, just not in the way he’d expected.

Before he could even begin to try and stammer out a greeting his Lord had begun speaking, “Wormtail, I have a very important task for you.”

Peter looked up hopefully “I won’t fail you my lord.”

“No you won’t.” Voldemort looked at him with a dangerous smile. “You will go into muggle London and buy me everything on this list. Every. Single. Thing. Understood?” The Dark Lord growled as he leaned forward menacingly.

“Ye-yes My Lord, of course My Lord.”

“Excellent, I will expect you back shortly.”

Peter hurried out of the drawing room, grateful he wasn’t cruciod for once.

But as he looked at the list for the first time, he stood still in shock. “Wha-?” He shook himself and carried on, nothing good came from questioning his master, best to just do what he wants. But still, two tutus, what on earth did he need that for?


End file.
